Pathway
by Reincarnated Poet
Summary: She wonders if it was worth it, of course, the idea that it wasn't is laughable. The real question when one looks to the balances is whether or not she's worth it. Sequel to The Conduit
1. Smog

**AN: This is the third attempt at Pathway. If it doesn't work, I'm going to delete the project as a whole. I just don't know what Alex is doing with her life, let alone how it is going to mean anything. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything herein, with the exception of Alex Harriner. **

**Chapter One: Smog**

There was a pattern. A rise and fall of all things. Emotions. Energy. Everything pushed and pulled. Nothing escaped it, and Alex Harriner was no exception.

She wondered, on occasion, when she was looking through a hole in the corner of her shit-hole apartment, whether or not it had all been worth it. She had looked into another life, and it had breathed into her.

Was it worth it?

The thought that it wasn't was laughable. Life. Life wasn't laughable, but hers might have been if she'd have truly sat back and looked at it with something more than a cursory glance.

She had been offered immortality. A chance to be up there in those stars that looked back down upon her. Three gods, looking down on her mortal antics. But that didn't seem quite right, either. She shook off the thought.

Were they proud of her, she often wondered, but there was no sense in worrying. There was little she could do now.

A human life. A human life in trade for immortality. Many possible lives all given in sacrifice of one. When you weighted them on the scales, many thought she'd made the wrong decision. They didn't know her though, and they didn't know that one life.

Some lives were just more important than others. Hadn't she learned that in the orphanage? Some people could simply disappear and no one would feel the impact.

They would have felt the impact of Kate though, and she would have felt their impact. Seeing Pogue so happy. That deep, indescribable, unmistakable happy when Kate had drawn another breath and opened her eyes, was far from not worth it.

That was difficult though, sometimes. Seeing him so happy was a harsh reflection that she was not. It was more difficult with Pogue. She wasn't sure why. The sons were all amazing in their own ways. Reid had been more than grateful for what she was, and for that, he wasn't hesitant to do whatever she asked of him. Caleb treated her like family, a little sister he'd never had. Tyler was awestruck, following her like a puppy does a master at first. Never forward enough to promote physical contact, but close enough to scare away anyone else.

And Pogue? Well, Pogue was somewhere in the middle. He and Kate were like family, confusing family that made it difficult to know how to breathe.

They were all great at first. Hanging around her out of more than a moral obligation, but that soon turned sour. Lately, things were less than perfect. The boys and girls were all getting ready to graduate and spend their last summer together.

It seemed, to Alex at least, that they were pulling in the reigns. They didn't go out and party like they'd used to, and who they did hang out with became more and more exclusive until she found that she wasn't invited to their lazy days.

After three weeks of not hearing from any of them, the annoyance she felt turned into a depression. It was in that depression that she found herself drifting. Drifting through questions that begged answers.

She could have gone home. To her real home, where they would have loved her for more than half a school year. Would she have been happy there? Would she feel as alone as she did now? Probably not, and it was that fact that hurt the most.

Somethings, she decided as she stared through the hole in her roof out into the stars, somethings had to come to an end. And endings weren't necessarily bad, not if they were done on her own terms. She would wait for them tomorrow-their last day of school-and she would made an ending.

She fell asleep praying that the thought was as comforting in morning light as it had been in the darkness.

The daylight wasn't as pleasant as she'd hoped. Her clothes fit awkwardly, stubborn and unwilling to lay right. Her key stuck in the lock on her way out, but outside, things were very much the way they had always been. The sun wasn't turning the world to ash. The rain wasn't drowning life. She had to wonder why it felt like the world was ending.

If she hadn't had such a reason to leave her apartment, she might not have been sitting on the bike rail, perched as easily as she always had, waiting for the final bell of their school year to ring and release them out into the world. A world that Alex knew, a world they might someday have to understand.

The bell finally sounded, releasing the students in a flood. She was more comfortable in the rush now, but still waited on the bike rack. One by one, the people she called hers exited the school, pausing by the door to wait for the rest of the entity that they'd become. It was a peaceful and silent recognition that even if they were all taking off in different directions, they belonged together.

She used to belong there, she thought darkly as they finally were whole. And whole they were, standing there, free of the curse her family placed upon them and ready to take the world that was theirs by storm. She had made them free, but she didn't think for a moment that she made them happier. Her presence did nothing for them any longer.

She wasn't naive enough anymore.

They found her quickly, but she stood out, standing there on the rail, a good three feet above everyone else. They acknowledged her all from a distance in their own way. Caleb and Sarah smiled softly, in that matching set smile that made them look like they belonged together.

Reid whistled and waved, a smirk on his lips as he elbowed Tyler who simply stared at her with a look of bewildered surprise. Tyler always had a look of confusion or surprise on his face where she was concerned, and while at first it had been amusing, now it made her burn.

Of course he'd be surprised by her presence; she'd been absent from his world for far to long for it to be otherwise.

Kate and Pogue never disappointed though, and she ignored the way Kate's dark eyes flashed happily and Pogue smiled at her like she was worth smiling at. They wove through the disbanding crowd, and Kate caught her easily in a hug as she jumped from the bike rack.

"Alex! I haven't seen you in forever," Kate murmured into her hair, spinning her in a playful hug. It was sad, really, when she thought about it. Kate always seemed to happy to see her, and at the beginning was one of the ones that made her feel most welcomed. Of course it was that way; she'd given up everything for the life the girl lived.

"Kate," she replied. It was an even tone, one she was proud of herself for mustering. It caught the other girl's attention quickly, and she was firmly held at arm's length. "I'm leaving." She said it firmly, steadily, but something inside her was begging that dark haired girl to object.

"What, when?" Kate asked, but the question didn't really register.

"Leaving as in on a jet plane, leaving, or leaving as in we'll see you at Nikki's later, leaving?" That question came from Reid, and the scowl on his lips let her know he already knew the answer.

"Don't know when I'll be back again," she quipped along with the song, but it was a painful thing. It was quiet for a long moment-too long-as the group stood unsure of how to react. It was that silence that Alex heard as she walked away from them.

She thought she heard Pogue behind her, calling her name, and she ran. She ran like she'd never run before. Someone else shouted at her, but their voices fell on deaf ears, ears that would only hear silence for too long to come.

Silence that had soaked up all of the room in her mind for listening and taken it hostage. Indifference. Silence was impartial disconcern.

That had been a word that Anann had planted into her head during the nights before she'd found out who she really was. She'd never thought it would apply to her life. It was difficult to want to return to somewhere she'd encountered the true definition of the word, but as she walked the streets of Boston a day later, she felt the old ache set up in her chest, pulling her back toward the small town of Ipswich once more.

She'd arrived there with nothing but the clothes she'd worn, but she'd left with so much more. Shoes had been a great addition. A rucksack of clothes, a pocket full of cash that she'd never known the weight of. Life in Boston wasn't as she remembered.

People were still loud, overbearing and uncaring, but it was the complete lack of amiability that struck her the deepest. It was as if a cold had seeped over the city and settled in for the long haul. Amid the hustle and bustle, breath could be seen, and it seemed as though every dark and unhappy emotion just fell from that breath like rain from a cloud, seeping right through her clothes into her skin.

Life wasn't easy. It had never been, but it was harder two months later when the pull split into different directions. They'd talked of separate colleges. The separation wasn't what shocked her. No, what hurt most deeply was the fact that they'd never looked for her. In two months, the pull had remained there, until that very moment when the cold became her.

During the summer and on holidays they congregated in Ipswich, and she would seem to lighten. The dark world she'd built herself glowed just a touch, as she wondered if they'd come find her. When Christmas came and went, she was worse for it. Spring and Summer holidays. Thanksgiving and Halloween. All saw her worse.

As the snow fell and Christmas came yet again, she did not change. There was simply no lower to go.


	2. Sicknes

**AN: This is chapter two, which I am writing with abandon after re-reading The Conduit and remembering the plot loop I left myself for a sequel, if the mood struck. I can't believe I forgot about it. This entire time, I've been thinking, "So, this is what I want to do, but what's the antagonist?" And then THERE is WAS. So beautiful and wrapped up so neat. I had forgotten about it. **

*****ADDITIONALLY: I have no clue where I want Alex to settle, if she's to settle. I sort of like Alex as a free spirit, not penned down to anyone, but I also sort of like the idea of her fitting in somewhere, after this piece. Anyone have any suggestions? I've made the (mostly) joking insinuation of a Pogue/Kate/Alex trifecta of love, but again...(mostly) joking. Thoughts? Comments in reviews means you might get a say.*****

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything herein except for Alex Harriner. **

**Chapter Two: Sickness**

It had been three years since Alex Harriner had set foot outside of Boston, and she didn't plan on it just because the pull had focused again for the summer in Ipswich. There was nothing for her there anymore.

She stared hard into the mirror on her vanity. Trinkets and jewelry littered the top. She had done well for herself. It was easy to make money in dark circles from people who were desperate.

A cough wracked her body as she glared into the mirror. White hair hung around stretched and sagging skin. She looked old, she mused. The wet rattle in her chest set her to coughing again. She'd have to find something to pass all of the death and sickness into soon.

A knock jarred her from her thoughts, and she turned toward her door. Her client was early; they always were. She crossed to a large window in her living room and threw it open, reaching an old, shaking hand out to press against the tree outside. The old ash groaned and blistered under her touch, but stood tall and proud as ever. The death insider her was nothing compared to what she'd experienced, and trees lived such long lives.

A knock came again as she draped a black shawl across her shoulders. Her joints no longer ached and if she'd have looked in the mirror again, she'd have been a young twenty-one year old girl.

"Miss Harriner?" A man's voice called through the door, desperate and pleading. She sighed as she opened it. Much the same as all of her clients, this man wore a suit, tailored to perfection.

"You're Johansen?" She asked, voice firm. He nodded and she smiled at him. "I'm Alex Harriner. You have my payment?" He looked her up and down, as if unsure if she was the answer to his prayers.

"I wasn't expecting-"

"You were expecting a wolf pelt perhaps, or feathered earrings?" She asked, knowing full well what he'd expected. She'd made a name for herself when she'd first come to Boston, but by now she no longer needed the mysticism or false pretenses. She didn't want the knowledge the pelt forced her to remember or the weight of the jewelry.

"Someone older," he finished, a sigh escaping his lips. "It doesn't matter, if you can help Amy, I'll pay you whatever you'd like." Amy, the name stuck in the back of her mind, playing havoc with her memories.

"You have someone to pass it to?" She asked, lips forming the words without her mind's acknowledgement. He nodded, and she let herself be lead, barefooted, to a limousine at the end of her short sidewalk.

The ride was silent, as it always was. Her clients came to her, usually with more money than they knew what to do with and more desperation than that. This man, she was sure, had exhausted his millions, only to resort to sinking to the level of the rest.

She was a last resort for everyone. Witchdoctors even took a back seat to the holy cleansings, and hadn't Alex been called in after so many of them? They never worked. How silly, she thought, that all of these people believed in a god that didn't exist. They'd pulled for the wrong team.

"You were vague about payment," Mr. Johansen said, fidgeting uncomfortably with the collar of his suit. It was an odd gesture for a man that was accustomed to the luxury, Alex noted, but ignored the statement. She was always vague about payment. Nothing solid until she saw the house, the client, and something that caught her eye.

The limo kept driving, further away from the high rises and the condos that overlooked the city, into a more quiet neighborhood, one that the suit and limo didn't fit into.

"I know it's not cheap," Mr. Johansen said as the houses grew smaller and more realistic. "And I have some money, but I can make payments. I swear to you, if you just-"

"Stop," she said firmly. "There isn't a monetary requirement." She looked at him for the first time, really looked at him, and she saw the signs. He had bags beneath his eyes, face clean shaven but not professionally so. His suit was nothing but a rental, and the limo driver was on the clock, not a regular. She smiled softly. "I'll think of something."

He relaxed into the seat as the large, black vehicle pulled to a stop. The house was quaint. The paint was chipping, and there was a little girl's bicycle on the front lawn. A blind fell into place in a window on the second floor, and Alex sighed.

Sometimes, she decided, sometimes there was no way to afford the treatments. Sometimes, there was just Amy.

Amy.

She let herself be lead from the limo up the small cement stairs and through a modest hall, pictures of a smiling girl and her mother and father littered the place.

"Miss Harriner?" A voice called from the end of the hall, and she let herself be drawn from her study of the photographs. She was a strong woman, that much Alex knew immediately, from the set of her shoulders and the way that she held back the desperation. Her hair was platinum blonde, a blonde that reminded Alex so much of someone she'd tried to forget.

"Yes," she said quietly, and was surprised when the woman nearly ran down the hall to pull her into a rough embrace.

"Save her, please," there were the sobs. "Please just save her." Alex found herself nodding and was pulled past a white door covered in a child's artwork. The room was darker than the rest of the house, only a faint princess bedside lamp sending the room in a faint pink glow.

The girl on the bed was only three or four, but her skin was slicked with sweat and she was deathly pale. From the door, Alex could hear the low rattle each time the girl drew breath.

"It's drug resistant," the mother spoke quietly from behind her. The little girl wore a mask, the front of it stained with red speckles. "We didn't know she even had it. There are so few cases, and the pediatrician just said she had a cold." The woman handed her a mask as she put on her own.

"What is it?" Alex asked, eyes not leaving the girl. She ignored the mask as she took a few steps forward.

"TB," Mr. Johansen said through his own mask. "They said it would get better but-"

"When medicine doesn't work, you start asking for a miracle. And when your god doesn't answer, you find a girl that can fix anything for a price," Alex said, sitting down on the side of the bed. The girl's eyes opened, fever making them glassy.

"They don't think she has long," one of the parents told her, but she didn't hear it.

"Amy," Alex called, and the girl opened her eyes for her. "Amy, my name is Alex Harriner, and I'm going to make you better." She laid her hand against, the girls, and just as she had done so many times before, she pulled.

At first, it didn't really change anything. The girl's skin was still sallow and sweaty, but the longer she dug, the more she found. Infection riddled the girl's body, far more than the lungs her parents knew about.

Slowly, the girl seemed to grow, like a flame flickering in tinder. The sickness stopped flowing, and in its stead came strength. Alex released her hand and took a shaking breath, the cough rattling, waiting to be ripped from her chest.

Blindly she reached behind her, taking the mask from the woman's hands and pressing it to her face. She coughed long and hard, blood pooling in the mask past her lips. The girl was asleep again, but she would heal with time.

"Is it...is that it?" Mrs. Johansen asked, and Alex nodded when she could draw breath. It took more strength than she would have liked to rise to her feet and walk toward the door.

"What about your payment?" Mr. Johansen asked, nervous still about making good on his promise.

"You have one child?" Alex asked absently.

"I can't..." Mrs. Johansen stopped short as she cradled her daughter in her lap.

"You want more?" She asked again.

"Of course, but we're content with Amy," Mr. Johansen answered, face screwed into confusion.

"There is an orphanage in Boston called Harriner Children's Center," she said quickly. "If you want to repay me, adopt your daughter a sibling." She let herself out, struggling not to cough as she walked barefooted back toward the Boston city-proper.

She'd have to stop by one of the parks and let the disease slip from her body, she told herself, but she was so tired that she collapsed into bed. Tomorrow, she promised herself, she'd get rid of it tomorrow.

Though, truth be told, she liked the disease. The sickness made her feel alive.

**RP - Pathway**

Alex found herself sitting on a park bench three days later, leaning sideways just enough to let her shoulder rest against a birch tree. There were children running about, and if Alex was honest with herself, she picked this park because it was so close to the home that she'd been in less than a week ago.

She'd hoped to see the girl each day since, knowing that she would be strong enough to go and run and play. Each day since, she'd left the park with the deep rattle still in her chest and the metallic taste of blood on her tongue.

Today, though, today was different.

A little blonde girl ran in circles around her father, shrieking with the pure joy of childhood. There was such a flame there that Alex had a hard time reconciling her with the girl that had been on her deathbed.

Her mind wandered. The girl was Amy. Amy was the girl, and yet, there were subtle differences. She shook herself.

Of course there were differences. Amy was dead, and this little girl was no more her dead friend than any of the others she'd saved. Mr. Johansen caught site of her sitting on the bench and gave her a nervous smile. She smiled back, coughing into a handkerchief.

With a sigh, she pushed, letting the disease leave her flesh and creep into the tree. A branch popped and fell to the ground beside her bench, and all Alex could do was wonder at the way everything in her life had seemed to work.

She saved people, and then they slipped from her existence like so much smoke.

"Is there something you needed?" Mr. Johansen had surprised her, coming to sit beside her on the bench as she was focused on pushing the disease away from her body. She felt the familiar fatigue that came with using her conduit abilities, but it was coupled with the feeling of health.

"I just wanted to make sure," Alex said at length.

"She's recovered miraculously. The doctors are taking credit, but we know," Mr. Johansen said. He sat there with a smile on his face as Amy played with another child on the playground. "We looked into Harriner Orphanage."

"And what did you find?" Alex asked.

"A little boy," he said, a smile on his lips. "Six years old, but he'll be a good fit."

"Good for you," she said at last. There were days when she could sit and know that she could look at herself in the mirror. Today might be becoming one of those.

"They call him Reid," Mr. Johansen said with a chuckle. "That's not going to work though." The name stuck in her throat, quickly bathed in white hot anger.

"What's wrong with the name Reid?" She asked, biting back the annoyance.

"Nothing," Mr. Johansen said with a smile. "It's my wife's nephew's name, but I suppose its a distance enough relation." He patted her knee. "It's going to take a while, with the adoption process what it is, but we're serious."

"Good," she said finally, simmering. Amy was playfully chasing a little boy around the playground. "Your wife, what is her nephew's name?" She asked, despite the knowledge that there were more than two boys with the name.

"Garwin," Mr. Johansen offered. "They live not too far off, down-" He stopped speaking as Alex rose and left him there, on the park bench. "Goodbye, then." He said as he watched her walk away. She looked more like he'd expected the first time, with a wolf's pelt and feather earrings. Her feet were bare again, and idly he wondered if he ought to leave her a pair of shoes. He shook the idea off as Amy ran up and collapsed against his knees in a fit of giggles.

For now, he had his family whole and healthy.


	3. Psychosis

**AN: Chapter Three, and I'm going strong. This is all written in one fell swoop before I lose the muse again. Not much to say. Except to ask your opinion on the subject broached in chapter two. I'm going to stop writing after this chapter, to give you all a chance to read and let me know your thoughts. **

**Trance: Thanks for the review. Unfortunately, this piece is going to have a heavier feel to it at first, with this chapter perhaps being the culmination and turning point. Reid and I always do this dance in my pieces where I want him to be a significant other and he just wants to be a friend. It happened in The Conduit, Not the Hero, Everybody's Villain and now it's happening in Pathway. I'll see what I can do. As far as her living longer, we're going to see a bit of the limitations of Alex's powers in this chapter. A conduit is something that passes something from one place to another. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean that the thing itself is impervious to damage.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Alex Harriner.**

**Chapter: Psychosis **

Tyler was happy, all things considered. He'd finished his third year of undergraduate studies despite the hellacious course load and was back home, back with his family and his friends. Back where someone could help him to make sure he didn't do anything...stupid.

At first, he had thought that the gods had been unfairly discriminatory against him, but as the months had passed, he started to wonder if they were right. It started small, just a whisper of a thought in the back of his mind telling him to do something that wouldn't be right.

Use to change a test grade. Take some girl, dazzle her with shiny lights and fireworks from nowhere, fuck her into the ground, and leave her without a memory. Let his eyes flash black and send that jock tumbling down the steps, maybe break an arm.

They always got more and more violent, more and more wrong.

From whispers to shouting, until he was sitting on his dorm bed, head buried in the pillows for hours on end, just begging for it to stop. And it always did, not long after it started. It would happen once or twice a month at first, and be over in an hour or two. After three years though, he nearly always had those vague little whispers, the harmless ones.

Change a test grade.

Clean up after the party.

New clothes.

A new car.

Without fail though, once or twice, a week, the darker suggestions started. Most of them were pleasurable, seeking things that would bring him happiness while hurting others. Some of them were dangerous, deadly. It was those that always let him know when it was getting out of hand.

At first, he'd lock himself in his dorm and ride it out until it was gone again, but now, it was happening so often that he'd learned to sort it in his head. The darker whispers sounded like something Chase would say or do. Not his voice, of course, but that out of control, pushed too far, split with reality babbling. His own voice, the one that he clung to, was a mixture of Caleb and Pogue, Reid and Alex, Kate and Sarah. People he knew. People he trusted.

So, when he was home, he sunk as deeply as possible into his friends, let their presence silence the madness, and prayed that when he went back this year, it would be different. This year, the whispers would be gone, and he would just be Tyler Simms, that Engineering Major with the gorgeous eyes and the smile that could melt a heart.

"Hey, Ty," Reid shouted at him, banging on his bedroom door.

"What?" He called back through. Reid had lost all sense of decorum after dorm life. He let himself in and let himself out of all of their houses like they were his own. And honestly, they might have been.

"Jesse called, Amy's turned around, and she wants me to come visit. Check her out, you know." Reid shouted through the door, and Tyler sat up with a lazy smile. Amy Johansen was all of the son's little niece.

The girl was sunshine and that warm color of yellow that you could only see in flowers. Reid's mother had a sister who had married, and the result had been that little girl. Most of the mothers were only children, or so far estranged from their families that they didn't know if there was a marriage or children.

"Gimme ten," Tyler shouted back, pulling himself from his sheets and setting about the morning ritual of preparing for the day. The voice was nonexistent this morning, as if it had simply gone elsewhere to haunt some other poor bastard.

They took Reid's new car-a junker that he had fallen in love with in a junk yard and put together piece by piece all without using and on his own earned money-instead of the Hummer because gas prices were ridiculous and after high school they all realized that maybe the beast hadn't been the most practical.

And Tyler didn't really mind, he discovered, when Reid drove. What had bothered him was when Reid drove his car because he was an adult, damn it, and he could do his own damn driving.

"She turned around quick, yeah?" Tyler asked.

"Yeah, after last time, when I tried, we weren't sure it was going to happen," Reid confirmed. All of the sons knew how many times Reid had tried to heal his niece, and all of them had to pull him out of a spiral every time it hadn't worked.

"And it was the treatments?" Tyler asked again, pressing.

"Jess wanted to talk to me about it. Wouldn't say over the phone," Reid answered. He'd had the same thought, that maybe the power had just taken longer to set in than normal. Modern medicine didn't fix the unfixable over night, but magic...well, magic did.

"Doesn't matter," Tyler finally decided as he shifted in the seat. For all Reid's loving reconstruction of the old El Camino, the seats were still as uncomfortable as shit.

"No," Reid agreed as he pressed the vehicle onward. "Not one bit." They shared a smile as Boston came into view. The subdivision wouldn't be too far off after the second Boston exit, and they'd both get to see Amy for themselves, whole and healthy.

**-RP: Pathway-**

Alex slept fitfully, her dreams dark and haunted. Amy was among them, as she often was since she'd returned to Boston. Except this time, her Amy lay forgotten in the corner of a warehouse, while the little girl Amy sat at her feet, staring at the rotting corpse.

"Why didn't you help her?" Little Amy asked, turning bright blue eyes on Alex, who stood in the middle of the warehouse, helpless and hopeless. "If you could save me, why didn't you save her?"

"Lexi?" Amy's voice called her, and Alex looked to the girl. She was sitting upright, half of her face worn away to rot, but still she spoke. "Why didn't you help me, Lexi?" Her hands reached forward, drawing Little Amy to her side. The pair looked at her with bright eyes, demanding an answer.

"Lexi?" Little Amy asked. "I thought your name was Alex."

"Alex."

"Lexi."

They called to her each in their own way, their voices rising and flooding her ears, drowning her senses and all of the world around her in sound and agony.

She bolted upright from the bed, confusion and sweat slick against her skin. Another dream, she told her thundering heart. Another dream come to haunt her sleep.

She sat up on the side of her bed, trying to push the memory away from her, but it wouldn't budge. Amy's memory had been heavy on her conscience since she'd saved the other girl three weeks prior.

She'd been seeing her Amy in reflections in the mirror. She glanced at her vanity, where the glass lay shattered against the dresser top. She knew that her bathroom mirror was much in the same state, and she'd gone out of her way to avoid walking in front of the large picture windows that lined most public streets.

Of course, then she'd started seeing Amy in crowds, just flashes of a too thin girl that looked like her. She'd chased them at first, but now, they followed her nearly everywhere, but she ignored them as stalwartly as she could manage.

The only place they didn't follow her was to that park. Amy, the little girl, not her Amy, seemed to be a balm to the day-mares, but now she haunted her nights as well as her namesake did.

With a sigh, she heaved herself from the bed. It was nearly morning, and she had a client coming at first light. Her shower was short, the water too hot for comfort, but somehow perfectly fitting. She dressed much in the same way that she dressed for every client.

This one was no exception to any of her rules. She arrived too early, with a pained look on her face and a briefcase of cash-Alex didn't ask the source-that was set down firmly on her desk.

Normally, Alex didn't work from her home, but the client had been insistent. Most clients with untreatable venereal diseases were. She thumbed open the briefcase as the woman paced the room in her dark red dress. It was an evening dress, something that one wore out at night, not out in the morning.

Or, Alex supposed, one wore it in the morning when one hadn't been to bed.

"Aweful lot of cash for something you could just-"

"I need it to be gone," the woman said harshly. "That's what I'm paying you for, so make it happen." That was a new one, really. Normally, her clients were hesitant and pleading. This version of desperate was new to her, but it was desperation all the same. It niggled at the back of her mind though.

"What? Sleep with some dirty young thing, and need to make the nasty proof go away before your husband finds out?" She asked, voice thick with accusation. The woman didn't deny it, and so with a nod, she snapped the briefcase shut and gripped the woman's wrist, pulling hard in her mind. It came easily through her skin and into Alex.

"Is it gone?" The woman snapped, pulling her hand away and rubbing at her low abdomen like something ached there.

"You tell me?" Alex countered, crossing to her window and letting the disease slip into the tree.

"What if it's not? I just paid you for nothing," she said, smoothing out the sides of her red dress.

"Madame," Alex said firmly, pulling the briefcase from the desk to hold behind her. "You go home, sink into a bath, and have sex with your husband. No one's going to be any the wiser that you slept with the college playboy.

A haunted air crossed the woman's face and she walked toward the door, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. The door slammed behind her, and Alex stooped to put the cash in the safe in the back of her desk.

All of her clients didn't pay, but those who could, more than made up for the rest. The house was quiet, as it always was, with echoes and haunting memories. Alex fled it more often than not, and today was no exception.

The park was where she spent her days, even with the nearly two hour walk. She could have taken a bus-or bought a car by now-but what was the purpose really? She'd gone so long without one, and didn't you need a license for driving those things?

Even Boston summers could be chilly, and she discovered that the morning sun hadn't quite warmed up the sidewalk as her bare feet padded along. At least out, in the chill, she wasn't feeling guilty for being warm. At least, away from the warehouse districts, she could try to outdistance the memories.

There were no children playing at the park that morning, and Alex let herself wander through the different toys and structures before slipping onto one of the walking paths that went back through a wooded garden. It really was a beautiful place, she thought. That little boy would grow up here, playing amongst the other children and running through the marigolds and grass bushes of the garden.

Maybe he would be Reid, maybe he wouldn't, but it didn't really matter. Alex had given up any claim to that name and the person she associated with it, just as he had given up her.

There were days, like today, that she could remember why she left Ipswich. It wasn't that she was angry with them, no, not really. It was for an ending, and with that ending, a new beginning. Over the years, when that new beginning had turned out a little less happy than she'd planned, that not really anger had gone rotten.

"What am I doing?" She asked the early morning air, but as always, it didn't respond. It felt good to talk though, so she kept on as she walked. "A last resort of the desperate," she murmured. And that was what she had been. A last resort.

The pathway curved and twisted in upon itself, doubling back and meandering wide around a small pond and through a thicker, darker part of the wooded garden before finally finding its way back to the children's park. Back to its home.

She shook herself again. She needed to stop drawing conclusions like that. A pathway was just a pathway, there was no home that it returned to at the end of the way. She sat down heavily on one of the benches.

By now, the sun was up in the sky, and a family had taken to the park, older than she usually saw. A blonde and brunette were playing catch while a little girl ran between them, jumping up and hopelessly trying to catch the football on it's passes.

They were too far away from her to make out any definitive qualities, just their hair color and approximate ages. They laughed over something the girl said, and Alex sighed into her woolen shoulder drape. If nothing else, she was content here.

"They're perfect, aren't they?" She heard a girl ask, and so lost in her own little mind was she, that she didn't question it.

"Mhmm," Alex agreed, bringing her feet up on the bench beside her, curling up in the sun's rays.

"I always liked the parks," the voice said again, and Alex sought her out with her eyes.

"Amy," she said when she saw the girl, this time whole and perfect, as she had been nearly every day until her death.

"We should have come here," she went on. "I'd have loved it."

"I'm sorry-"

"You know, I wasn't mad when I died, but now, what you're doing? You could have fixed me, Lexi." She said, turning tearful eyes away from the perfect trio. "You could have saved me."

Alex shut her eyes, willing the image away. They were becoming more and more realistic. More and more haunting.

"I didn't know how then," she told the other girl. "I would have if I'd have known how."

"You learned for them?" Amy's voice was harsh, accusing, spat as if at a particular group of people. Alex opened her eyes to find Amy staring hard at the trio of people still playing at catch.

"I learned for the people I was supposed to learn for," Alex said. "I didn't know, Ames."

"You didn't try," Amy countered. "You didn't try, and then when you did, you end up back here?" That little head back around to stare at her, pitiful and disappointed.

"It's not so bad," Alex replied, completely aware that she was talking to a ghost, unable to bring herself to stop.

"One death for another, Alex. You just traded one for another," Alex stared at the younger girl, who simply shook her head, stood up and disappeared into the wooded garden, leaving her there to marvel at her own insanity as the pair passed the football back and forth.

Alex slept fitfully, her dreams dark and haunted. Amy was among them, as she often was since she'd returned to Boston. Except this time, her Amy lay forgotten in the corner of a warehouse, while the little girl Amy sat at her feet, staring at the rotting corpse.

"Why didn't you help her?" Little Amy asked, turning bright blue eyes on Alex, who stood in the middle of the warehouse, helpless and hopeless. "If you could save me, why didn't you save her?"

"Lexi?" Amy's voice called her, and Alex looked to the girl. She was sitting upright, half of her face worn away to rot, but still she spoke. "Why didn't you help me, Lexi?" Her hands reached forward, drawing Little Amy to her side. The pair looked at her with bright eyes, demanding an answer.

"Lexi?" Little Amy asked. "I thought your name was Alex."

"Alex."

"Lexi."

They called to her each in their own way, their voices rising and flooding her ears, drowning her senses and all of the world around her in sound and agony.

She bolted upright from the bed, confusion and sweat slick against her skin. Another dream, she told her thundering heart. Another dream come to haunt her sleep.

She sat up on the side of her bed, trying to push the memory away from her, but it wouldn't budge. Amy's memory had been heavy on her conscience since she'd saved the other girl three weeks prior.

She'd been seeing her Amy in reflections in the mirror. She glanced at her vanity, where the glass lay shattered against the dresser top. She knew that her bathroom mirror was much in the same state, and she'd gone out of her way to avoid walking in front of the large picture windows that lined most public streets.

Of course, then she'd started seeing Amy in crowds, just flashes of a too thin girl that looked like her. She'd chased them at first, but now, they followed her nearly everywhere, but she ignored them as stalwartly as she could manage.

The only place they didn't follow her was to that park. Amy, the little girl, not her Amy, seemed to be a balm to the day-mares, but now she haunted her nights as well as her namesake did.

With a sigh, she heaved herself from the bed. It was nearly morning, and she had a client coming at first light. Her shower was short, the water too hot for comfort, but somehow perfectly fitting. She dressed much in the same way that she dressed for every client.

This one was no exception to any of her rules. She arrived too early, with a pained look on her face and a briefcase of cash-Alex didn't ask the source-that was set down firmly on her desk.

Normally, Alex didn't work from her home, but the client had been insistent. Most clients with untreatable venereal diseases were. She thumbed open the briefcase as the woman paced the room in her dark red dress. It was an evening dress, something that one wore out at night, not out in the morning.

Or, Alex supposed, one wore it in the morning when one hadn't been to bed.

"Aweful lot of cash for something you could just-"

"I need it to be gone," the woman said harshly. "That's what I'm paying you for, so make it happen." That was a new one, really. Normally, her clients were hesitant and pleading. This version of desperate was new to her, but it was desperation all the same. It niggled at the back of her mind though.

"What? Sleep with some dirty young thing, and need to make the nasty proof go away before your husband finds out?" She asked, voice thick with accusation. The woman didn't deny it, and so with a nod, she snapped the briefcase shut and gripped the woman's wrist, pulling hard in her mind. It came easily through her skin and into Alex.

"Is it gone?" The woman snapped, pulling her hand away and rubbing at her low abdomen like something ached there.

"You tell me?" Alex countered, crossing to her window and letting the disease slip into the tree.

"What if it's not? I just paid you for nothing," she said, smoothing out the sides of her red dress.

"Madame," Alex said firmly, pulling the briefcase from the desk to hold behind her. "You go home, sink into a bath, and have sex with your husband. No one's going to be any the wiser that you slept with the college playboy.

A haunted air crossed the woman's face and she walked toward the door, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. The door slammed behind her, and Alex stooped to put the cash in the safe in the back of her desk.

All of her clients didn't pay, but those who could, more than made up for the rest. The house was quiet, as it always was, with echoes and haunting memories. Alex fled it more often than not, and today was no exception.

The park was where she spent her days, even with the nearly two hour walk. She could have taken a bus-or bought a car by now-but what was the purpose really? She'd gone so long without one, and didn't you need a license for driving those things?

Even Boston summers could be chilly, and she discovered that the morning sun hadn't quite warmed up the sidewalk as her bare feet padded along. At least out, in the chill, she wasn't feeling guilty for being warm. At least, away from the warehouse districts, she could try to outdistance the memories.

There were no children playing at the park that morning, and Alex let herself wander through the different toys and structures before slipping onto one of the walking paths that went back through a wooded garden. It really was a beautiful place, she thought. That little boy would grow up here, playing amongst the other children and running through the marigolds and grass bushes of the garden.

Maybe he would be Reid, maybe he wouldn't, but it didn't really matter. Alex had given up any claim to that name and the person she associated with it, just as he had given up her.

There were days, like today, that she could remember why she left Ipswich. It wasn't that she was angry with them, no, not really. It was for an ending, and with that ending, a new beginning. Over the years, when that new beginning had turned out a little less happy than she'd planned, that not really anger had gone rotten.

"What am I doing?" She asked the early morning air, but as always, it didn't respond. It felt good to talk though, so she kept on as she walked. "A last resort of the desperate," she murmured. And that was what she had been. A last resort.

The pathway curved and twisted in upon itself, doubling back and meandering wide around a small pond and through a thicker, darker part of the wooded garden before finally finding its way back to the children's park. Back to its home.

She shook herself again. She needed to stop drawing conclusions like that. A pathway was just a pathway, there was no home that it returned to at the end of the way. She sat down heavily on one of the benches.

By now, the sun was up in the sky, and a family had taken to the park, older than she usually saw. A blonde and brunette were playing catch while a little girl ran between them, jumping up and hopelessly trying to catch the football on it's passes.

They were too far away from her to make out any definitive qualities, just their hair color and approximate ages. They laughed over something the girl said, and Alex sighed into her woolen shoulder drape. If nothing else, she was content here.

"They're perfect, aren't they?" She heard a girl ask, and so lost in her own little mind was she, that she didn't question it.

"Mhmm," Alex agreed, bringing her feet up on the bench beside her, curling up in the sun's rays.

"I always liked the parks," the voice said again, and Alex sought her out with her eyes.

"Amy," she said when she saw the girl, this time whole and perfect, as she had been nearly every day until her death.

"We should have come here," she went on. "I'd have loved it."

"I'm sorry-"

"You know, I wasn't mad when I died, but now, what you're doing? You could have fixed me, Lexi." She said, turning tearful eyes away from the perfect trio. "You could have saved me."

Alex shut her eyes, willing the image away. They were becoming more and more realistic. More and more haunting.

"I didn't know how then," she told the other girl. "I would have if I'd have known how."

"You learned for them?" Amy's voice was harsh, accusing, spat as if at a particular group of people. Alex opened her eyes to find Amy staring hard at the trio of people still playing at catch.

"I learned for the people I was supposed to learn for," Alex said. "I didn't know, Ames."

"You didn't try," Amy countered. "You didn't try, and then when you did, you end up back here?" That little head back around to stare at her, pitiful and disappointed.

"It's not so bad," Alex replied, completely aware that she was talking to a ghost, unable to bring herself to stop.

"One death for another, Alex. You just traded one for another," Alex stared at the younger girl, who simply shook her head, stood up and disappeared into the wooded garden, leaving her there to marvel at her own insanity as the pair passed the football back and forth.

Football wasn't something any of them had done in high school, but it seemed that every college male knew how to at least play catch. So they had picked it up somewhere, the easy back and forth of it calming. And Amy loved to watch them.

She squealed as Tyler dropped the ball and it went end over end through the grass. The little girl raced forward on her short legs, nearly losing her balance once, to collapse onto the ball, in a fit of giggles.

"Oh, no!" Reid shouted, very much in the way that was reserved only for Amy. "He fumbles, and the opposing team recovers the ball!" He ran to her, picking her up in his arms and waving her in the air. "She turns it around," he continued to shout, like an overpaid sports announcing. "She's at the forty, the thirty, the twenty, she could GO ALL THE WAY!" He drew a deep breath. "Touchdown!" He shouted, setting the girl on her feet as she collapsed into giggles.

"Spike it, Amy!" Tyler called to her, but the little girl had no clue what it was, and only laughed at the boys' antics as they proceeded to do their own version of the touchdown dance.

"Gah!" Reid collapsed into the grass, panting slightly. "You ready to head home, Amy?" He asked, his own stomach rumbling in demand of food.

"Hungry!" She shouted, and both boys had to agree. They left the park behind them, completely unaware of the woman that watched them from a distance or her demons.

Over the little girl's head, both boys smiled. Whatever it had been, Amy was whole and healthy. They hadn't had a chance to talk to Jesse, who had been too busy making arrangements for an adoption to do much besides hug them both and shoo them to the park.

The second time around, though, Jesse was waiting for them, her normal smile in place and lunch on the table. "Was starting to worry about you boys," she said, giving Reid and Tyler both a hug.

"Amy dominated in football, we had to regain our manly pride with piggy back rides," Tyler offered, and the woman just smiled, shaking her head.

"Amy, dad's waiting for you for lunch, why don't you go into the kitchen?" Amy nodded, and dropped down from Reid's back to run into the kitchen.

"So, what happened?" Reid asked after a moment, watching his normally calm and confident aunt rub her hands over her jeans like she was nervous. Her eyes flickered up and over him hesitantly.

"Could you tell...if something was wrong with her?" She asked, looking from him to Tyler and back again. Wide smiles broke out over both of their faces.

"We already checked." Reid supplied.

"And she's fine," Tyler finished. Jesse's nervous frown sagged into a sigh.

"Not modern medicine then?" Reid asked. He fidgeted for a moment until Tyler elbowed him in the ribs. They both wanted to know, and both were nervous about the source of their miracle.

"The doctors stopped treatments three weeks ago," Jesse said, shaking her head and leaning heavily against the wall. "We got desperate, and James had heard about this witchdoctor. We were just so desperate." She ran her hands through her pale blonde hair, pushing it back away form her eyes.

"But it turned out alright; Amy's fine," Tyler offered, and Jesse smiled at him. When her sister had married into the Garwin family, Jesse had inherited an entire extended family that she was happy to have.

"I was just nervous after she showed up at the park. James said she just wanted to make sure that Amy was alright, but she's been there everyday. A mother worries."

"She wasn't there this morning," Reid offered. He hadn't seen anyone near the playground at all. They'd been the only ones there most of the morning.

"If you want, we could...scare her," Tyler offered. That was a whisper, he checked himself. He needed to make sure that he didn't slip. They'd been gone all morning. Reid eyed him oddly before smiling.

"We could do a little witchery," he offered, and Jesse just laughed with a shake of her head.

"It's not that I'm not grateful every day for Alex, but we expected her to disappear as easily as she appeared." Jesse didn't notice the two boys glance at each other at the name. "God, she was so perfect. Just walked in and sat on the bed, and touched her hand like everything was going to be fine. And then it was," tears made their way down the woman's cheeks.

"How old was she?" Reid asked, an edge to his thoughts and voice.

"Mid-twenties maybe. Why?" She asked, and stood up straight as the boys shared another look. "What?" She asked, slipping into her mother persona.

"Nothing," Reid said, hands coming out to rub up and down her arms. "We just might know her."

"I thought you said your power couldn't do anything?" Jesse asked, a nervous set to her shoulders again.

"Ours can't," Tyler answered her, as Reid leaned heavily against the wall. "She isn't one of us though, not really." He glanced at Reid. "It might not even be her."

"Of course it's her, Baby Boy," Reid said harshly, annoyance in his tone. "What other Conduit named Alex do you know?"

"Conduit?" Jesse asked, confused. From in the kitchen, Amy called for them to come eat.

"She's the one that fixed the...problem," Reid supplied. "She takes things into herself and puts them elsewhere."

"She was coughing after," Jesse said. "Is this a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I don't know," both boys answered at the same time. It had been a long time since either of them had seen Alex, let alone known what she was thinking or doing. If Tyler was honest with himself, he'd thought about the girl every day. Thought that maybe she could pull the voice from him, make it stop. Reid hadn't thought about the girl since the day she'd left-or at least that was the lie he told himself.

He'd missed her from the moment she'd left. It was funny though. He hadn't seen her for at least two weeks before she'd left, but she hadn't felt gone up until that moment when she said she was leaving. It finalized her removal from their group. The finishing of her task with them. It made it all seem very done; except, he wasn't done.

He sighed and gave Tyler a smirk. "Me and Ty are gonna take lunch to go. Do some digging."

"Amy's alright, though," Jesse asked again, nodding when they just smiled at her. She was neurotic at times, she knew, but she'd had a daughter that was on death's door. She had a right.

**AN: I couldn't help it. Jesse and James just go together so well. Don't judge me. **


End file.
